


Never Really Over

by Tagpye



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Marking, Mild Blood, Resolved Sexual Tension, implied past relationship, includes topping from the bottom Anduin because I have good taste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tagpye/pseuds/Tagpye
Summary: When Wrathion canters into his throne room Anduin has to deal the emotional fallout. As it turns out, long-buried feelings are anything but dead.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 11
Kudos: 230





	Never Really Over

**Author's Note:**

> (Siggy has made some AMAZING fanart for this fic, PLEASE check it out:  
> https://twitter.com/shushsiggy/status/1231305577667715072?s=20  
> https://twitter.com/shushsiggy/status/1231428067786141696?s=20  
> )
> 
> "Did you name this fic after a Katy Perry song because you couldn't think of a name?"
> 
> Me, through tears: "M...Maybe....."
> 
> Anyway I felt I could have taken this fic in many different directions, however I think I'm happy with the direction this went in. These boys have a lot to unpack! 
> 
> I sort of wrote this with my previous wranduin fics in mind, so you might see some interconnecting themes, maybe!

N’Zoth’s looming presence grew every closer, pulling and tugging at his insides until he felt himself begin to unravel. It only took a glance at his spewing innards pooling onto the floor to really grasp any sense of what had happened. He began to distrust himself, his thoughts, and his actions. Fear lingered on the precipice of his mind, an increasingly maddening sensation of the world being pulled out from under his feet with little comprehension of when and where he was slipping. 

He was desperate, and it was this desperation that the Black Prince Wrathion stood in his war-room, eyes roaming animatedly over a contrived mess of plans and maps and briefs pinned onto the table. 

“Pieces of the puzzle lie in the Titan’s forges, Magni has requested forces to eliminate the cultists who intend to thwart our plans.” Wrathion said, fingers tapping against a thick stack of parchment.

“Well that depends on how much you’re asking, N’Zoth is attacking countless locations across the Western Kingdoms, there is only so much I can spare.” Anduin replied, face contorted with annoyance the more Wrathion’s fingers tap-tap-tapped. 

It felt as if there was wool lodged in his throat. No matter how much he sipped at his water the ache never seemed to go away. His head felt heavy and his chest felt tight. 

He couldn’t articulate what was happening inside of him. Thoughts and feelings swam with little purpose nor destination to them. Brief catches of words or sensations. Sentences and absolutes that simply broke away and settled into the aimless tumble, like stones brushed up and whittled down into pebbles by a bubbling stream.

He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but he wanted to say so much. Fury settled in his gut and gnawed at him from the inside. ‘How could you? Why would you? I want to tear you open to see the scales underneath your skin.’ 

But of course he said nothing. He watched placidly as Wrathion explained the many benefits of his next glorious scheme.

It was nostalgic, sweet in a sickly way that only cloyed his throat all the more. 

“I am not getting much of a reaction out of you.” Wrathion spoke, “Need I remind you of the importance of our actions?”

“I understand the importance of our actions.” Anduin spat back, bile rising from the places he had tried to bury it. “Which is why I need to be very cautious about what you’re asking of me.”

Wrathion gave him a weary look, “I… understand you may have some skepticism about my plan, but please be assured everything I say I say with the weight of Azeroth on my shoulders. I understand the burden we bear and I have given every action and every manouver the deliberation it needs. I do not want to fail this.”

Anduin sighed, massaging at the headache that had taken root deep in his temple since the morning. He understood the burden, his legs were buckling with the weight of it, millions of lives sat squarely on his shoulders. The thought was enough to make him nauseous.

“Me neither.” Anduin said eventually. “Fine. Fine, I’ll give you want you need, tell Magni I’ll have men sent out on the morning’s ferry.” 

“Perfect.” Wrathion purred. He shifted around the table to cast an eye over him. “You look tired. The Alliance won’t do well with a leader who is struggling to keep his head above the water. Have you been sleeping?”

“My wellbeing is nothing of your concern, thank you.” Anduin retorted.

Wrathion crept ever closer. “Despite what you may I think I do care an awful lot about your wellbeing. I have been concerned for you.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, I’d suggest you turn your attention back towards the nature of this meeting or my patience may just run out.”

“Come now, you’re being unreasonable.” The dragon stood uncomfortably close to him. “I still consider you my friend, I am being genuine.”

A hollow laugh left his lips, “We’re not doing this Wrathion. I refuse.” 

Wrathion said nothing and let out a quiet sigh. The air was awkward, stilted. Anduin refused to meet his eyes and stared at a singular tile on the floor. He was cautious of himself, he didn’t trust the words coming out of his mouth, or the thoughts bubbling inside of his head. Every inch of him was screaming with a discordant flurry of wants, a broiling ache that simmered in his gut and spread out into his extremities. 

His heart hammered in his chest, his stomach rolled over, his hands balled into fists. It was too much, Wrathion made any restraint he had crumble. 

With little warning the dragon lifted a hand to rest upon his shoulder, Anduin immediately recoiled.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped, but quickly tried to regain a semblance of manners, “Please.”

The dragon eyed him curiously, “What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“Afraid?” Hysteria immediately boiled upwards, “I’m not afraid, I’m furious! Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?!”

Wrathion mused over those words, chewed them up and took his time unpacking the taste.

“Would you like to talk?”

Anduin scoffed, _“Would I like to talk?”_

“Humans seem to have different methods of handling their feelings than my kind, I am attempting to be conscientious.”

The bitter hilarity of it almost made him laugh, “You know what? Nevermind. You evidently have no clue, I can’t believe I expected any better from you.”

Wrathion made an indignant noise.

“I appreciate my actions may have-” He paused for a great deal longer than seemed necessary, “-upset you.”

“Upset me? UPSET ME!? YOU HAVE DONE FAR MORE THAN UPSET ME!” He bellowed, voice echoing off the walls.

He could feel it again, that anger flooding his mind and hazing everything else out. Memories he had tried so desperately to keep buried inside wound their tendrils around his heart. Countless nights in Pandaria, Wrathion’s jovial laugh, the tinking of tankards, the clatter of Jihui pieces pulled from their velvet bag, kisses stolen in the dark places of the tavern. 

The dagger in his heart as he saw Wrathion’s billowing red eyes for the last time.

It hurt. He had never experienced pain like it. Losing Wrathion. Losing his father. Bitterness filled the holes in his chest that their absence had left behind. 

He had lost so much, and Wrathion was a reminder of just how much.

For perhaps the first time in the conversation, Anduin turned directly to face him. 

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore. Please leave.”

Wrathion’s expression turned soft, “You know I won’t do that.” 

He let out a choked sound, his throat constricted, curling around his words and strangling them shut. He couldn’t let Wrathion in again, he shouldn’t. Yet it didn’t stop himself from crumbling at Wrathion’s gentle smile.

“...I know.” He ceded weakly, eventually. 

When Wrathion moved over to hold him in an embrace, he found he had lost any strength to refuse it. The moment his face hit the warmth of his chest he broke down. Wrathion simply held him as he sobbed, his hands winding their way into the folds of his clothing and clinging tightly. The tears didn’t stop, they seemed endless, pain and grief leaking from him in gallons and soaking into the crook of Wrathion’s neck. 

Slim fingers soothed across his crown and Anduin melted into it. His heart felt as if it had cracked open, everything he had tried to bury deep deep inside gushing out, raw and messy. 

The tears kept flowing until they ran dry, as unlikely in the moment it seemed, the moisture burning hot against his eyes. He let out soft muffled hiccups into Wrathion’s shoulder, boneless against the hardness of his body. Wrathion held him still, kept him rooted in that spot, the sensation was comforting if only for the feeling of being hidden away from the woes of the outside. 

If only he could bury himself in Wrathion arms forever, forget the war, forget the Old Gods. If only he could steal a piece of selfish happiness for himself. 

It could never be like that though, it would never be easy.

Begrudgingly, he pulled himself away and glanced up at the dragon, “I need to be elsewhere, I hope your mission goes well Wrathion. Be safe.”

Wrathion’s mouth opened to protest, but thought better of it. “Indeed, I will see you another time Anduin.”

Anduin quickly mopped up his face with the sleeve of his jacket and left for the many ails of Stormwind’s people, painfully aware of Wrathion’s eyes following his every step.

\------------------------------------

A headache had plagued him since the meeting in the war-room. An unceasing reminder of his tears and the comfort of Wrathion’s embrace. 

He started doubting himself, in between the many diplomatic talks and contingency planning meetings. A niggling worry to fill up the few spaces he had left in his brain for free thought. 

He wondered if he should have shown Wrathion that sort of weakness, he wondered if it was right of him to give him even the slightest sliver of trust. Deep down, he knew Wrathion never intended him any harm. When Wrathion told him he cared, he believed it. 

It was an unfortunate fact of life that Wrathion had an appalling way of showing it.

A significant amount of his time since Wrathion’s absence was spent trying to expunge him from his thoughts. Sadness and fury, an unpleasant mix that had sat in his gut for months and months on end since he left. Truthfully the wounds had only just started to heal before they were torn back open again. The leaking gash ached and ached, it was enough to make him sick. He was so tired, and he could only offer so many words of hope and guidance before he felt himself crumble again. 

It was late when he finally got respite. Everything ran on far longer than it was supposed to, and Anduin barely managed a few bites of food before he stumbled into his private quarters, eyes red and weary.

Surprise and dread overtook him as he noted a figure sat at his study. Wrathion smiled and waved a coy hand. Apparently it was destined that he would not get any rest today, he could hardly force himself to respond to Wrathion’s greeting. 

“Just because you are my adviser does not mean you get free reign of the keep.”

“A warm welcome as ever.” Wrathion chuckled. 

Anduin let out a heavy sigh, “What do you want?”

The dragon responded in mock indignation, “I’m insulted, you think I’m here for business! No, I’m here to spend some time with you.”

“No thanks.” 

Wrathion spluttered, “I-! Well I-! Could I not tempt you? I brought entertainment.”

Anduin eyed Wrathion, then peered down at the stack of board games and cards in his possession. Some terrible traitorous part of him wanted to, the other hadn’t really any enthusiasm. 

He threaded his fingers through his bangs, pulling at the band and letting his hair fall free. 

“I’m sorry, Wrathion, I just want to sleep.”

Perhaps it was a little uncouth of him to undress in front of company, but he found he had little care. He shucked his jacket off ungracefully onto the floor and padded around to find bed clothes. 

Besides, it wasn’t as if Wrathion hadn’t seen him in far less. 

“Well then,” Wrathion called out as he disappeared into the backroom, “May I request that I stay the night? I thought I could be there tomorrow to coordinate the transport.”

“Certainly.” Anduin replied, throwing on a nightshirt, “I’ll have a guest room set up for you.”

“Ah, well actually…” Anduin knew it was coming, that low purposeful tone creeping into his voice. It made his headache give an exceptionally painful pang. Absolutely not, not today, not tonight, not ever. 

Wrathion pressed on regardless, “I thought I could spend what little time I have left here with you. After all, we have _so_ much to catch up on.”

“A little too much, I’m afraid.” 

He knew how Wrathion wound his way in, reminiscent of the little voice of temptation that one would find sat on their shoulder. Despite the throbbing in his chest he hadn’t the mental resource available to play into his game. Cat and mouse, Wrathion casting the bait and Anduin taking a bite. Reeling him in, Anduin feigning surprise and Wrathion gloating over his spoils. 

He was young, and foolish. Stupid enough to believe that masking their relationship through gimmicks and technicalities would be enough to hide the fact that he had fallen in love. 

Old aching pain shot through him again, the saccharine taste enough to make him choke. 

Wrathion stared at him expectantly. 

“I’m getting into bed, you can find somewhere else to sleep for the night.”

Before he could utter a single word in response he made way for his room. 

The moment he felt himself enveloped in his bedsheets was the moment that Wrathion immediately vanished from all thought. His eyes slid shut, and the soft down of the pillow cradled him into contentment. There were several days where he wished he never had to leave these comforts. Days where he wanted nothing more than to be without burden, laid comfortable and alone with only his thoughts as companionship.

Today wasn’t one of those days, he heard Wrathion approach and drag a chair to his bedside.

“Please tell me you’re not going to watch me sleep.” Anduin said, voice sluggish.

“When I said I wanted to spend what little time I have with you, I meant it.” Wrathion replied, “I’ll leave you alone once you’ve slept, that is a promise.”

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be good company, I haven’t really the energy to talk to you if I’m being honest.”

Wrathion nodded, “That’s fine, would you prefer it if I talked instead? Or would you prefer it if I didn’t talk at all?”

Anduin couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, “Is that in general or-?”

“Hilarious.” Wrathion glowered, “Your sense of humour has not abated in your time as regent I see.”

He was dizzy and delirious, hair mussed and eyes half-lidded, but it didn’t stop the lazy smile from creeping over his face. 

“You have a particular effect on me, I can’t help myself.” Anduin drawled, stifling a yawn. “But yes, you may speak.”

“What would you like me to talk about?”

Anduin laid there for a few moments, thoughts slovenly. 

“Tell me about what you did when you left.” 

_‘Tell me whether you thought about me, on those nights when you were alone. Tell me if you ever wanted to come back.’_ Tempting thoughts crept into his head, but fell quickly silent as he closed his eyes.

Wrathion cleared his throat, “Yes, certainly. I suppose I shall start from when I found myself on Draenor, you see-”

Perhaps it should have made him uncomfortable how relaxing he found Wrathion’s warm and honeyed voice. Yet as Wrathion talked on, and on, he found himself hanging on each syllable, the deep rumble dragging him along and drawing him into slumber. In truth he barely heard more than a few sentences from him before his consciousness faded out, hanging on if only to hear more of his voice, his smile, his presence. 

When Anduin slept his dreams were, for perhaps the first time in a long time, pleasant and uneventful. 

He dreamed, and he slept, and he caught catches of Wrathion’s scent in between the middle spaces.

\------------------------------------------------

It was far too early when he awoke. The sunlight was barely just gracing the keep, tender and slight. 

Memories of the evening ebbed in slowly as he shifted in discomfort. The past few nights he had awoken far more frequently during the late hours, all things considered, this was the best night’s sleep he had all week.

Wrathion… _Wrathion_. He recalled the dragon sitting at his bedside and blinked through sleep and blur to make out if he was still sat in his chair. 

Evidently not. 

He ignored the twinge of longing in his chest and let his heavy eyelids fall back shut. Content with the hazy bliss of sleep, soaking away his worries as if the weight of a kingdom was nothing more than a wisp in the wind. 

Then he heard it.

_Schiff._

He heard a sound. A rather peculiar sound, one that struck him as particularly strange given he was supposed to be the only one in his bedchambers. 

Opening another bleary eye he glanced once again at his bedside. The chair wasn’t there, but something else was.

A little more alert, he lifted his weary body upwards to pivot on an elbow. There was _something_ in his room, something very large, something _moving_. It took more than a few seconds to process what he was looking at; Wrathion, in his dragon form, sleeping on the floor beside his bed.

Surprise gave his heavy mind another jolt of comprehension. He couldn’t help but to marvel at the sight, took in the gentle glow of sunrise and the soft chirping of songbirds awaking for the morn. Wrathion’s large scaly head pointed towards him, thick gold bands circling the horns spiralling from his crest. Scales glistening ever so slightly in the light, dusky and sparkling with amber sheen. 

His mind wasn’t quite working well, as without any preamble he found himself lifting a hand and placing it gently on Wrathion’s snout. The texture sat comfortably in his stomach as he let his fingertips follow the groove of each scale. Wrathion did not stir, and Anduin took the quiet between them to steal the moment. 

He let his hands follow upwards and before he knew it he had slipped onto the floor, holding the dragon’s head in his hands with silent awe.

It felt a little selfish, and perhaps a bit opportunistic, but as Wrathion laid there as he really was beneath the flair and glamour it made Anduin’s heart beat faster. 

He followed the shapes of his face, tracing the dip of his maw and poking at the ridges. His heart felt full, and in the lonely quiet of his bedroom he let himself indulge in past memories and long buried feelings.

But he was tired, still so very tired. 

He padded on all fours, following the curve of Wrathion’s body around to the small alcove where his tail curled in. Upon recollection he would blame the early hours and his ailing mind, but as he leaned inwards to slump again the dragon’s ribcage he let out a contented sigh.

Wrathion was warm, and his body heaved with each breath. The sound of his heartbeat flitted dimly beneath his scaly hide. 

The comfort lulled him in as odd as that seemed given Wrathion was a very large black dragon taking residence in his bedroom. He briefly recalled the times he lay with Wrathion like this, in the quiet early hours when not one of his guards stirred. How he tangled in his limbs, the wild excitement of first love leaving him breathless and his face blotched red. 

In different circumstances of course, but he didn’t quite want to dredge those memories up right now.

He had very little awareness that he was drifting off to sleep, and the point in which he did realise what was happening he found he had little care to move away. He let himself slumber, curled up in the grasp of a dragon as butterflies swam in his stomach and unspoken words sat on his lips.

\------------------

Something was poking him, ever so gently, however the action was repetitive enough to make him stir. Inhuman noises alerted his weary senses that something wasn’t quite right, and the strange crick in his neck made him all too aware that he was slept in a terribly awkward position. 

When his eyes flickered open he was met with large red pupils, staring unblinkingly right at his face.

“What are you doing?” Anduin asked.

“What are _you_ doing?” Wrathion replied, and Anduin couldn’t help but to startle at the draconic deepness of his voice, “You’re the one sleeping at my side.”

The haze of half-sleep suddenly cleared, and embarrassment flushed through his body at being caught in such an incriminating position. He slumped away and sat on his knees beside the resting dragon. 

“I… apologise.”

Wrathion chuckled, “If you wanted to be bed-fellows with me you need only ask.”

Anduin’s face turned red. “T-that wasn’t my intention, and frankly I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t flirt with me.”

“Oh come now, you’re the one giving me mixed signals.”

“Mixed signals? Mixed signals!?” Anduin couldn’t help but to bite. “Wrathion for once could you please find some degree of tact? I’m still angry with you!”

Wrathion lifted a wing in what he assumed was an attempt at a human shrug.

“You have a very strange way of showing it, if anything I’d say you’re the one flirting with _me_.”

An angry stuttering sound caught in Anduin’s throat. “I am not having this argument with you.”

Anduin never knew dragons could smile, Wrathion grinned wolfishly at him.

“And yet you seem to be arguing with me anyway.”

His mouth opened, then fell shut again. He hurried himself off the floor and retreated into his guest room as Wrathion scrambled to revert to his human form in a flash of smoke. It really was a cruel joke of fate to have him here, considering how much he had to contend with Wrathion was the straw that broke the casket. He was fearful, scared that in the haze of his bungled mind he’d do something he’d regret.

The temptation snaked its way in the moment he set foot through the door.

“What do you want from me Wrathion?” He sighed, as the dragon followed in his steps. 

Embarrassment mingled with the lurching want in his stomach; distrust of himself, distrust of Wrathion, distrust of what would happen if he allowed himself to be alone with him for more than a few moments. 

The tension sat ever brimming just beneath his skin, and when Wrathion reached out to place his hands just above the crook of his elbows his body jolted in response.

Wrathion’s voice dropped low and soft, “Just a chance to make it up to you, a chance to atone for what happened in the past.”

Those words were intoxicating and enticing, made a niggling little feeling at the back of his head creep up into his consciousness. He didn’t move away from the hands encircling his arms, and when he turned to face him the proximity stole his breath for just a few moments. 

He could see it, very clearly. Those hands curling around his waist and Wrathion’s lips on his. Restraint fought viciously with desire, he weakened in his gaze and met his eyes.

“And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?” His voice disconnected from his head, “Do you think you can just wish away years of hurt? Years of me wondering why you left me behind? Years wondering if this was all just a game to you? You broke me. How can I ever trust you again?”

Wrathion’s eyes widened and it seemed his silver tongue could not find any pretty words to twirl around and put into play. 

“I… I messed up.” He said simply.

Anduin sighed again, heaviness sitting squarely on his chest. Too much, all of this, the war, the Old Gods, Wrathion. 

“Why are you trying so hard to force this?” 

“Why do you think I’m trying to force this?”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, “I don’t know, because you never tell me. You never told me anything.”

He could taste the implication behind his words. The many things between them unspoken, sitting deep and dark in the spaces where they hid secrets. It was far too painful to ever ask out loud. He was afraid, terrified even, the pain of not knowing long outweighed the tear in his heart at the thought of it all being meaningless. 

Wrathion for perhaps the first time, seemed to crumble right in front of him. 

“When I come back…” He murmured, trailing his hands down Anduin’s arms to hold his fingers tightly in his grasp. “When I come back, I’ll tell you all of my secrets. Everything I kept buried, the things I have told no one else. I’ll share them all with you, I promise.”

“ _If_ you come back.” Anduin’s voice cracked, “I know far too many people who never did.”

Wrathion seemingly could not respond to that. He gave him a gentle smile and rubbed circles upon his palm. 

“Well perhaps this time I’ll prove you wrong.”

His body moved without thought, he grabbed the back of Wrathion’s head and kissed him fiercely. Affirming a flash of precognition, Wrathion’s arms closed around his waist and he felt something hot and heady shoot down his spine. He tasted him, savoured him, let his essence drip onto his tongue, took as much of him as he could before the broke the kiss.

Perhaps he should have been honest with himself, it was obvious how this was going to turn out. It was inevitable, he drew him in like a moth to a flame and had resigned himself to being charred. 

“I’ll be waiting for you. When you come back, I’ll be waiting for you.” He panted heavily. 

Wrathion wet his lips. “Yes. Yes of course.”

  
When Wrathion set sail alongside the supplies he had promised, Anduin was there to see them off. Everything tumbled inside of him, discordant and twisted, as he watched the boats disappear into the shimmering horizon. What would happen if they succeeded, what would happen if they failed. He seemed to be standing at the edge of a precipice with little guess of which way the wind would blow.

There was nothing he could do but wait, terror and apprehension licking at his heels.

\-------------

The news had been broken to him right in the middle of an affair with a few ruling nobles and their financial charters. A squire, red-faced and breathless, bounded across the room and slammed a brief flat in front of face. 

He called everything else off, his schedule, his commitments. He rushed down to the docks just in time to see champions piling off the boats as hearty laughter and excited chatter filled the air. 

He waited, and he waited some more. Watched reunions and witnessed those bringing bereavement back home with them. An unending buzzing swarm of people and joy and relief.

He stood there with bated breath, and as time slipped by the crowds dwindled down and the sun began to sink from the sky. A gnawing feeling of dread edged over him, the anticipation heightening his anxiety and leaving him perturbed. 

Even when the docklands became empty and the sky blotched with orange and red, he remained there, waiting, always waiting. Dared not to leave lest it mark an absolute. That Wrathion wouldn’t be coming back; the thought was too much to handle. 

Just as the doubt began to enter his mind, he saw something on the horizon. Faint, dark, nondescript. An eternity passed, time seemed to slow in order to mock him, however much to his long awaited relief Wrathion’s large sweeping wings cast a silhouette against the mottled amber sky. 

His breath left him, words fizzled out from his throat, as Wrathion dropped from the sky and trotted up to him with a graceful gait. Smoke and ash graced his entrance with a flourish, and Anduin could barely respond as Wrathion pulled him into his arms and twirled him on the spot. 

“You waited for me.” Wrathion grinned.

Since Wrathion left the only thing he contended with was what he would say to him when he returned. Now that he was here, not one single sentence formed at his lips. 

Instead he decided to fill the silence by capturing Wrathion’s mouth.

“Come with me, I’d like to show you something.”

Perhaps it was risky leading the dragon by the hand, however in the moment he found he could not care. He led him through the arches of Stormwind, around the winding streets and tiled houses. In long ago dreams he thought about how much he wanted to show Wrathion around his home, the sights he loved, the places he had fond memories. 

They reached a quieter part of the city, somewhere the hub-bub died low and the lapping of the shoreline accented the air. Large stone tablets stood strong against the skyline, blue ribbon corded with gold rippling pleasantly in the breeze.

Anduin turned to him, “Lion’s Rest. It’s a memorial for my father, and for the people we’ve lost along the way.”

Wrathion nodded solemnly and peered up at the cenotaph.

“I regret that I never really got to speak to your father, he seemed to be a good man.” 

He turned silent and doubt flitted across his expression. 

“Do you blame me still for what happened to him?”

Anduin stayed quiet for a few moments, “You caused a lot of hurt when you left, however I don’t hold a single thought that what happened to him was your intention. I’d be more angry with you if you hadn’t learnt your lesson.” 

He sighed, a mess of bitterness and ache wedging itself in his chest. 

“You can make up for the past by being a better person than you were. Understanding your actions and what harm can come of them, trying to do better and be better each day. Taking the weight of responsibility and shouldering the burden with repentance. That’s the way I like to see things anyway…”

Wrathion took his hand and squeezed it tightly, “I suppose I can do that.” He said with a soft smile.

Words tangled in his mouth again, none of this felt easy. While his heart wanted, he couldn’t feel content with how things were. He needed more from Wrathion, he needed absolutes and confirmations, none of the vague statements and lofty words that the Black Prince was oh so very fond of. 

Wrathion spent the entire time he had known him lingering in the shadows, an entire persona based on secrets and lies out of a self-serving need to protect himself. But he didn’t need to do that with him, he never did. Anduin had loved him, always, unconditionally. Even when Wrathion was dancing around the pain of his family legacy and distrust of the outside world, Anduin had always loved him. 

“Wrathion-” It came out rushed and tumbled. “Wrathion I need you to be very clear with me.”

The dragon blinked, “Yes?”

He held his palm with both of his hands, tongue fumbling over his thoughts. 

It was difficult, while he had spent his young life in the public eye negotiating and speaking to his people, somehow this was the one thing that stopped him in his tracks. He let out a shuddering breath, his heart beating so hard he could hear it in his ears. 

He placed his hand upon his chest.

“If I let you in again… If I let you again what will you do?”

The dragon tilted his head ever so, “What do you mean?”

“I mean will you leave me? Betray me? I’m not willing to play around with you anymore, I’m not the teenager you met back in the tavern. I don’t want to hide around this secret between us any longer.”

Wrathion’s mouth opened but not a sound left it, he glanced out at the sunset, colours bleeding into the waves at sea. 

“I was young and foolish.” He said eventually. “I was scared. It scared me how much you meant to me, my entire life I had no one who cared for me. Then you showed up and I-”

The hand clenched at his chest.

“I was so frightened, everything felt easier when I had no shackles to hold me down. I thought my life could be dedicated to fulfilling a legacy I had no choice but to bear, the weight of a heritage that I and I alone had to atone for, and when I found something that made my life feel worthwhile I could not handle it. It didn’t fit into my plans, it made everything so much more harder.”

“I regretted it, I regretted leaving you. I thought about how I wanted to steal you away with me, maybe even if it was against your will. I thought the righteousness of my actions would be excuse enough for you to forgive me. I realise now how foolish that sounds but… that was all I had known. I’d make up some pretty excuse that you were useful to me when in reality I just wanted you all to myself.”

Wrathion exhaled deeply, turning back to face him. “Selfish, cruel, just like my family. Am I truly so different from the rest of them?”

Anduin shook his head, “If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be standing here with you now.”

He laughed, lacking humour. “Even now, I still want you. Even if you hate me, despise me, I can’t stop myself. I want to be selfish, I want to force myself back into your life even if you do not want me to do so. I want to break you down piece by piece until you cannot deny me any longer. I daresay that has already happened.”

Anger flitted through him, and Anduin’s fingertips dug into Wrathion’s palm. 

“Is that what you think this is? Me caving in to you?” Saying it out loud, he realised he wasn’t entirely wrong. However, it was his choice to forgive, and it was his choice to be here with him at this moment. 

“Do you think you have me ensnared in another one of your tricks?” He barked, “That I’m just a weak mind that has fallen under your thrall? I’m not that stupid. Do you think I’m really so docile?”

“What? No I-”

“I love you!” Anduin snapped, his voice echoing across the slate and stone. It was as if a curse had been lifted, something ripped out from the bowels of his heart. “I always have, I still do! Don’t you dare say you forced me into this, I’ve always wanted you. Stop trying to make excuses and just let me in!”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” Wrathion began to unravel right in front of him, desperation and pain wrenching through his expression. “Anduin, I’m so sorry.”

It was through a blur of tears that Wrathion caught him by the mouth, he threaded his hands through his hair and held him so tight that he winced. He kissed him, and kissed him, dipped him below the waist so that his hair dangled towards the floor. When they parted Wrathion gazed down at him, longingly, lovingly. He could see the hunger in his eyes, could taste the desire on his lips. 

“I’ve always loved the way you look after I debauch you.” 

Anduin’s face flushed hot. “I wouldn’t exactly call that debauching, you’ve done far more obscene things to me.”

“Yes, definitely. I’ve missed that very much.”

Wrathion moved to caress him again, however Anduin quickly interjected a hand between their lips.

“Wrathion please, you still haven’t told me what you want. I want you, I want us to be together. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course I do I-”

“No.” Anduin said firmly, “I need to hear you say it, no tricks and no schemes. You need to promise to me, swear to me that if you still want to be in my life that you’ll never do something so stupid and cruel ever again.”

Wrathion stared at him, eyes flickering between his face, his lips. How he expected Wrathion to respond in that moment, he did not know, spent nights and nights on end writhing in his bed sheets running through a million different scenarios in his head.

What he didn’t expect however was for Wrathion to take his palm and drop to one knee. 

“I swear my loyalty to you, King Anduin.” 

“If this is a joke I swear-”

“I’m not joking.” Wrathion cut in. “I swore to protect Azeroth, and while my duties may take me far and wide I promise to always come back to you, no matter what the circumstance. My heart belongs to you and only you, and if you would have me, I’ll never leave your side again.”

The air was punched out of his lungs, it was so bold of Wrathion that his heart flipped inside his chest. He was serious about this, he could tell by the fierce gleam in his eyes that he only ever saw when the dragon was undertaking action borne of purpose. 

Uncharacteristically his voice shook, “I… I accept.”

Wrathion chuckled, “I should think your father is looking down upon us now, I wonder what he would say? I knew he was never fond of me.”

“I’m sure he would want me to be happy, even if it is with someone like you.”

He squawked, “Someone like me!? After I gave you such a heartfelt confession? I am insulted!”

A grin pulled at his lips, “What do you want me to say? You’re terrible! I don’t know why my taste in men is so abysmal.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I like that plural.” Wrathion stood up and curled his hands around his waist. “I should think I’m the only one you have taste in.”

“Cocky as ever.” Anduin clicked his tongue. “Not a good trait for a suitor of the king.” 

“Well, if you have any other suitors who have vanquished an Old God I would love to meet them.” He retorted, tucking a strand of his golden hair behind his ear. “I did that, just so you know. I hope someone told you that.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I did! Ask anyone! I single-handedly tore N’Zoth asunder with my own two hands.”

“Hm-mn.” 

As they made their way towards Stormwind Keep, Wrathion told Anduin about the many great and heroic things he did whilst in Ny’alotha.

\-------------------------------

They had more than a few strange looks, not least from the guardsmen stood stationed at his personal quarters. His absence from the keep had not gone unnoticed and when Anduin returned with a black dragon in tow, one that no longer had the moniker of advisor at that, it turned more than a few heads.

_Let them gossip_ , Anduin thought. He wasn’t going to hide Wrathion away like a dirty little secret. While he was under no illusion that any talk of an affair with a dragon would cause a stir, he was certain that as long as they kept it tame in public there would not be enough ammo to fire any accusations. 

Nobody would be foolish enough to try, he hoped at least. 

When Wrathion stepped into his room and the door was shut, those thoughts quickly left his mind. 

Their hands tangled in each other’s hair, and Wrathion’s mouth, hot, hungry, stole each breath he took. He barely had an awareness of where they were, what they were doing, before his thighs hit the edge of the bed. Wrathion threw him onto it and lunged on him in the same second.

“Is this more the _debauching_ you had in mind?” He smirked, tilting his chin up and biting into his neck. 

Anduin groaned, ruffling his hands through Wrathion’s curly locks and tugging out of need. He could recall all of it, everything they did together, the way Wrathion touched him, it sat wedged in his memories and tortured him on lonely nights. Shaking with pleasure as he touched himself, thought of him and the searing hot expanse of his body. 

Nostalgia clashed with the present, years of yearning coiling like a rope and snapping under his grip. Wrathion’s lips refused to leave him, reverent and frantic. They slid together and all he could taste and feel was Wrathion. He wanted to drown in him, bathe until he soaked into his skin. 

Wrathion’s tongue thrust into his mouth, warm and wet, his taste filling his throat and leaving him sobbing. 

Lust settled deep into his stomach when Wrathion pulled away. He was a sight, dishevelled and ravenous. Anduin took the moment of respite to press a thumb against his cheek, tracing across his features. 

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured, not missing the way his eyes dropped half-lidded. 

Wrathion chuckled softly, the rumble vibrating in his chest. 

“Even in my true form?” He replied jovially.

“Yes, even then.” 

Wrathion kissed him again, beginning to claw at the lapels of his jacket. 

“It was unwise of you to invite me back here.” He proclaimed, wriggling a hand past his collar and unbuttoning his capelet. “I’m afraid I shan’t be able to leave you alone, no time for a king and his duties when you have a dragon to tend to.”

“Mmm, I see.” Anduin mused conversationally, trying to subdue the hitch in his throat as Wrathion tore his shirt off and traced a tongue down his chest. “I hear dragons are very troublesome creatures to reign in. What do you recommend I do?”

Wrathion took the chance to lathe his mouth over a pert nipple and bite into it. Anduin couldn’t stop the breathy gasp from leaving his lips. 

“Lots of attention and praise should do it, in particular dragons like to be called ‘handsome’ and ‘very clever and wonderful’ if that helps at all.”

Anduin giggled and wrapped his arms around his neck. 

“I’m afraid I’m all out of ‘handsomes’ and ‘very clever and wonderfuls’, so I may have to simply call you a smarmy asshole instead.” 

He lifted a hand to his forehead and let out a sound of mock horror, “Unwise young Anduin, words like that may just anger a dragon.”  
“Oh, is that so?” Anduin laughed, husky and breathless. “Whatever will happen?” 

Wrathion began to undress and peel away his upper garments. Not that he had to do much undressing, he had most of his chest on show already, however it didn’t stop the rush of blood up to his face and down to his dick. He was toned and well-built. He wanted to grab and touch, run his hands over every inch he could see.

When Wrathion leaned back down to slide against him, the sensation of skin on skin made him gasp. 

“The dragon may attempt to devour you, my king.” Wrathion ran his fingers down his pecs. “He would eat you whole, not a speck of you left, it would be a very gruesome sight for someone to walk in on.”

“Sounds terrible, but I should hope you wouldn’t do that would you? After all, I like to think you’re very fond of me.”

A wide smile pulled at Wrathion’s lips as he began to dip lower towards his stomach. “Too late, you have angered this dragon and now I have no choice but to devour you this very instant.”

Deft hands picked at the front of his trousers, and while he was more than accustomed to Wrathion’s skilled fingers on his dick he was far less accustomed to Wrathion’s dextrous tongue winding around his cock and tugging tightly. 

“Fuck-” Anduin spat, back arching as Wrathion ran across the curve of his length and twisted around the tip. 

He clenched at the bedsheets, curling them in his grip as Wrathion’s hot mouth closed around him and sucked deeply. It was so wet, so soft. His dick twitched in his mouth and Wrathion laughed, dragging his lips from the base and and suckling at the precome leaking from him. 

“Somehow you’re more bewitching than ever.” He crooned, running his hands over his thighs, “I like it when you fall apart in my hands.”

Wayward strands of hair curtained over his eyes, and he hadn’t the heart nor mind to make himself more presentable. He writhed, gasped and moaned, as Wrathion’s moist mouth sucked him down and tight pressure coiled in his gut. 

Hazy thoughts swam in his head, disconnected and absent, and while he was fully enthralled by the unceasing burn of pleasure, the crisp popping sound of objects that weren’t Wrathion nor his curling tongue peaked his attention. 

“Why do you have that?” He regained the presence to ask. 

Wrathion glanced nonchalantly at the vial of viscous liquid in his hand, “Oh, this? I always have this with me.”

Anduin eyed him, deadpan. “You always carry a bottle of lube with you?”

“Yes.”

“In very serious life-or-death battles you have a bottle of lube with you at all times?”

Wrathion lips twitched, “...yes.”

He should be focusing on Wrathion’s pleasant mouth rather than the things coming out of it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“You definitely had that with you the entire time, and didn’t specifically have it for this very moment because you prepared for something like this to happen.”

His eyes shifted noticeably. 

“...No.”

“I don’t believe that, you know for a second I don’t believe that.”

Wrathion sighed melodramatically, edging up from his knees and curling one of his blonde locks around a finger. “Always so distrustful of me, do you truly think I would be so crass?”

“Yes!” Anduin said, “I absolutely do! Honestly you’re so-”

“What? I value your safety and comfort above everything, because that is how thoughtful and loving and kind I am.”

Anduin’s mouth thinned into a tight line, “Did you have it with you when you first came back?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you have it with you when you first came back.” He repeated impassively.

Wrathion laughed nervously, “Of course not, do you think I would be so naive as to expect you to fall back into my arms at first glance?”

Anduin didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. Wrathion gave him a wry smile and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, not too dissimilar to a guilty household pet caught sneaking food from the kitchen. 

“You are insufferable.”

“I don’t think you’re permitted to make those statements when you’re naked in bed with me.” he purred. 

“Certainly.” Anduin responded blithely, “I feel this is simply a testament to the many bad choices I’ve made in my life.”

Despite his stony expression when Wrathion gripped his cock he let his facade flinch. 

“I suppose I’ll need to make you rethink your opinions then.” 

His slick tongue darted out to lathe over his chest. It seemed no matter where Wrathion left his mark the touch was always searing, verging on painful. Begrudgingly he would admit the burn simply heightened the pleasure, and when Wrathion bit into a nipple he shuddered where he lay. 

Wrathion dropped lower, caressing his skin along the way. He couldn’t quite hold back his relief when his mouth closed back over his cock and Wrathion let out an amused hum. 

The sounds of hands tinkering met his ears yet again, however this time he hadn’t the effort to respond to it. Wet fingers, precise and thin, pressed up against his ass. Wrathion’s mouth on his dick was unceasing, and when his body gave way he could hardly stop the stuttered gasp from leaving his lips. 

He pressed in deeply, words formed at his lips but found no purchase on which to leave him. Sensation, desire spreading through his gut and melting away when Wrathion fingered him just so and his sex jerked frantically into the confines of Wrathion’s slick hot mouth. 

It sparked through him, leading all the way up along his spine and blotted out the thoughts in his head. The precipice was upon him and as the pleasure built up his body coiled up in response. He gasped, threaded fingers through Wrathion’s unruly hair, as just as it swept upon him, had his toes curling and his back arching, Wrathion let go.

“Please-” Begging was beneath him, but his lips responded before his mind had a say in it. “Please I’m so close.”

While Wrathion’s mouth had left him, the fingers wedged inside him hadn’t. Wrathion wiggled them ever so and Anduin couldn’t stop the tremors pulling at his limbs. 

Wrathion let his head rest atop a perched arm, “Mmm, I quite like that, do that again.”

“Don’t be such a bastard, finish me off.” He sniffled.

The only thing he received was another sharp jab of Wrathion’s fingers, he bit down a moan.

“That’s not a very romantic thing to say.”

Anduin cleared his throat, “Wrathion, I adore you and I think you are a very wonderful and attractive person. Please finish me off.”

Wrathion grinded his fingers deep inside him, his cock twitched and leaked in response. 

“I can detect sarcasm just fine thank you very much.” He chided, “And because of your attitude I think I might play with you a little while longer.”

Wrathion wiggled his way up to lay by his side. He said nothing and watched Anduin’s face whilst the shadow of a smile sat on his lips.

“What is it?” Anduin asked, as Wrathion continued to gently slide his fingers into ass and tingling warmth spread through his gut. His face twitched with the sensation, the fluttering of his eyelids, the jitter at the corners of his mouth. 

“Nothing, I’m just admiring the way you look.” He replied softly.

“So one moment you’re tormenting me and the next you’re complimenting me, I wish you’d make up your mind.”

He laughed, “Can’t I do both? It’s because I love you so much that I want to do these things to you.”

Anduin’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled wryly, “Oh, so you do love me then?”

“Hm, I’m not sure.” He let his fingers jab against the pleasurable spots in his body, and Anduin gasped. “I might need a bit of convincing to make my mind up.”

“How would you like me to convince you then?”

Wrathion’s fingers pulled out and were followed up by something far thicker. He held his cock up against the cleft of his ass and toyed with his hole with the tip of his thumb. 

“I must say, you have a very one-track mind.” Anduin said morosely, even if his heartbeat did quicken in the moment. 

“As do you, you seem considerably more excited now. I would daresay you’re looking forward to me fucking you senseless.”

“Fucking me senseless.” Anduin repeated blithely, “Who’s the romantic one now? You have such a way with words.”

“Make love to you then.” Wrathion grumbled, “I will tenderly and lovingly fuck you senseless.”

“Wonderful, I don’t think anyone in Azeroth has ever heard such poetic and thoughtful words in the heat of the moment.” 

Wrathion’s disgruntled silence sat between them for only a few moments before Anduin snickered, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss on his lips.

“On a more serious note, it’s fine, I want to do this with you.” 

He kissed him back, letting it deepen and Anduin could taste himself as Wrathion’s tongue slid into his mouth. 

“Would you like me to use more romantic words?” Wrathion asked as they briefly parted, “I have no shortage of heartfelt things I want to tell you.”

Anduin hummed, “Now this is something I am unused to, after your long absence I think I would like to hear them.”

A guilty expression fell over Wrathion’s face and warm hands moved to slide along the curve of his neck, “Certainly. Shall I tell you the things I was too afraid to when we met? I thought you were beautiful, I enjoyed staring at your face when you weren’t looking. I liked to watch you while you slept.” 

Anduin opened his mouth to reply with a sarcastic comment, then thought better of it considering he had spent their last bleary eyed morning caressing Wrathion as he slept. He simply replied with a conversational, “I see.” and cuddled into the warmth of Wrathion’s chest. 

“I like to think I committed all the times we spent together to memory, I thought of you when I was far from this world.” Wrathion paused, “Did you… ever think of me?”

“Well… Let’s see.” He mused, “I locked myself in my room for a full week when me and my father returned home. He couldn’t quite understand what the issue was and sent various figures to my door in an attempt to corral me out. I sat stewing in my own misery for months on end, berating myself for being so stupid and pondering if I had been used all this time. I thought about how much I wanted to punch your awful face and then battled with myself that it would be a very untoward thing to do. Even though I began to think of you less and less as time passed, every time I thought of you the feelings I had never went away, and when you showed up one day in my throne room I suppose years of seething and doubt managed to wrap their tendrils around me. Does that answer the question?”

Wrathion glanced away sheepishly, “Y-yes, I think it does.”

Anduin wiggled closer to gently bump his forehead against his. “I suppose you’ll have to spend a good amount of time making it up to me.” He whispered slyly. 

Hands dropped lower to circle around his waist, then further still to slide his fingers along the bump between muscle and thigh. 

“I can do that, allow me to bestow upon you my unceasing repentance.” Wrathion declared. 

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” He smirked. 

Any rebuttal was silenced as Wrathion pushed back in a few fingers, languidly pressing deep and grinding against his insides. The nudge of his slickened cock followed not long after, and Anduin gripped at his arms as his eyelids screwed shut. 

Wrathion was being slow, impossibly slow. He felt himself open up, and Wrathion very carefully eased his way into him. The slow burn of being stretched open was excruciating if only out of anticipation, his fingernails dug into his skin as Wrathion chuckled, breath hot and humid against his cheeks. 

The juncture of his knee was raised, and Anduin gasped out as Wrathion used the angle to slide into him deeper. He could feel him, all of him, firm and jutting inside his body. 

He briefly opened his eyes to see Wrathion looking down on him fondly. 

“What now?” 

Wrathion scoffed, “ _What now?_ I was just thinking of how much I enjoy seeing you like this.”

“Well you should be honoured, you’re the only person who gets to see me like this. Don’t take it for granted.”

Anduin squirmed the longer Wrathion remained inside him, his body completely still. 

“I won’t, I treasure everything about you that I get to keep to myself. Especially the way you look when you get impatient with me, for someone who is supposed to be calm and reserved you are _terribly_ needy in bed.”

“You’ll have to forgive me.” He ground out, voice hitching as Wrathion’s hips wedged themselves further between his thighs. “Someone left me for a good four years and I haven’t had the opportunity since.”

“I see, so you need four years worth of love-making. I regret to inform you that it may be several weeks before you’ll be able to leave your room.” Wrathion replied chirpily. 

“Only a few weeks…” Anduin half-laughed, half-gasped as Wrathion’s cock jabbed upwards. “I doubt I even have a day to spare at this point.”

Wrathion hummed, “Let’s make that day count then shall we?” 

The dragon slid his hands along the corners of his flushed face, pulling him in for a heated kiss. The brief sparks of stimulation hit his gut as Wrathion gently pressed inside of him, setting a leisurely pace. 

“Wrathion please.” He sighed, fighting to break free from his unceasing mouth. “Harder.”

“Very crass! I might need some persuading however.”

“What do you want me to say!?” Anduin grumbled, “You’re doing this on purpose to annoy me!”

“Would I ever do something like that?” Wrathion declared with feigned surprise. 

Anduin couldn’t give him a response when Wrathion’s hips jerked suddenly and another one of his hands situated itself at the back of his knee, splaying him open and giving the dragon more ample access. 

His body shook with his motions, the back of his head rumpling against the pillows. He let himself fall apart, let Wrathion thrust into him and let himself melt onto the bedsheets. The heat under his skin began to rise, slipping down every nook and cranny to make every inch of him burn with pleasure. 

He pondered that the idiom ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ might have some truth. Just the mere thought that it was Wrathion doing this to him made his heart hammer and let butterflies burst forth into his chest. How long had he been craving this? How long had he simply wanted him in his bed? His scent, his smile, the touch of his skin, absences that wormed their way back into his brain until the only source of gratification left was Wrathion himself in the flesh, grinning down at him through his splayed thighs. 

He sobbed with the friction of Wrathion’s cock grazing deep inside of him, and recalled the way he used to fumble with his body. Kissing him in the dark of the night and the feeling of someone else’s hands on him for the first time. An intoxicating mix of hormones and love, a taste so unbelievably piquant it failed to ever truly leave his memories. The experience had never left him since all those years. Something selfish and his own, wild and messy, perfect in the way it wasn’t perfect in the slightest. 

Recollections of Wrathion’s previous antics had almost left him until the dragon slowed right back down again, his hips staggering. 

“Say it again.” Wrathion said hoarsely, “Tell me what you told me back at Lion’s Rest.”

“W-what?” Anduin slurred, “I told you many things, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Your confession.” He said, “I want to hear you say it again.”

“Wrathion please!” 

The dragon rutted upwards into his body and his back bowed in response.

Anduin stuttered, “I-I mean, what? I love you? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Precisely,” Wrathion purred, “Tell me just how much you love me, I want to hear it a thousand times and more.”

“I love you.” Anduin replied monotone. “Are you satisfied now?”

His legs bent further backwards and Wrathion leaned in to press his pretty face against his. 

“I’d like to hear you say it while I fuck you.”

“Vain.” Anduin chided, “Though your choice in sex talk is surprisingly vanilla.” 

Wrathion responded by opening his sharp mouth and biting into the crook of his neck. The snap of his hips followed not long after and Anduin gasped as Wrathion’s teeth curled deeper into his skin. 

“Fuck, ah-!” His limbs dropped loose as Wrathion began to plow into him and his skin began to burn hot with pain where Wrathion’s mouth pinned against him. 

He could feel the sinuous wind and push of his body, cock rutting and sharp, bumping against the spots that made him break apart. When Wrathion ceased to release his bite he found it broke his thoughts all the more, the ache and the jolt of pleasure, it stung and it hurt and it felt so good water began to prickle at his eyes as he winced. 

“Wrathion-” He garbled, mind torn. The sounds of Wrathion’s thighs smacking against his own sat obscene in his thoughts. His hands grabbed for his body and eventually settled on snaking their way around his back and holding him close while Wrathion’s movements became more frantic. 

“I thought of you-” He choked, settling his lips against Wrathion’s ear. “Is that what you want to hear? I can’t stop myself around you, you drive me frantic. You make every part of me break down. I haven’t loved anyone the way I love you, I want you and any piece I can have of you. Wrathion if you ever leave me again I won’t- I can’t-”

Wrathion pulled away from his neck, the sensation fresh and aching and sore. Fresh rose-red blood dripped from his lips and his eyes gazed down at him half-lidded. At that moment Anduin thought he had never looked more beautiful, the sight caught in his chest and swirled hot in his stomach. 

“I won’t, I’ll never.” Wrathion said, voice low. “You’re mine, and I’ll remind you of that as much as I need to.”

Anduin’s shaky hands curled around his face, “Yes, I’m all yours. I always have been.”

The tang of his own blood smeared on his tongue as Wrathion kissed him deeply, his wound aching as he bent into him. Wrathion began to fuck into him desperately and Anduin rung his hands through his hair in an attempt to ground the coiling of his body. 

He could feel it, burning heavy in his core and sinking through his skin. He smothered against Wrathion’s mouth trying to swallow each sound rumbling from his throat, he wanted it all, he wanted to consume him and all that he had. It was release from years of waiting on the precipice, painful emotions churning in with the good until it left an incoherent mess. 

The ache settled inside him and ate him alive, he grabbed and pulled and sunk himself into Wrathion, melted into the addicting pressure of him protruding into his body, his cock, his tongue. 

“I’m close-” He shuddered, crying out as Wrathion continued to slam into his mercilessly, “Break me, please-”

Fingers dug into his leg as Wrathion wedged into him further, he found he could not form a sentence as the pressure wound and wound and bungled up in his thoughts. 

He sobbed, grasped frantically at the searing hot skin smothering his body. His cock twitched and leaked, chasing the catch of friction against his taut stomach. He bent and twisted, pleasure blotching out his vision and his thoughts until he could only cling to Wrathion as tremors began to bleed out from along his spine. A garbled cry left him as Wrathion slammed into him all the more, delicious sounds of the dragon gasping into him, pulling him further and further over the edge.

When his release took him he unravelled in the crook of Wrathion’s shoulder, breathy and panting, Wrathion’s hair plastered against the sheen of his cheeks, the dip of his mouth. He shook as the coil of pleasure winding around his gut snapped, their stomachs streaked with white as his cock jerked and spat, hot and slick against his skin. 

Wrathion slowed and peered down at him. 

“Now this is a sight I won’t forget in a hurry.” He groaned, bucking into him and making him gasp. “You look a mess.”

It took him more than a few moments to make his mouth work. The cloying rush of excitement began to congeal over his mind. “Your fault.” He offered weakly. 

“Indeed, I will shoulder the responsibility.” Wrathion replied, bending to press kisses against the sore mottled skin on his neck. He was all too aware the dragon was still hard, his sex still thick inside his sensitive body. Wrathion slipped a few fingers down to coat himself afresh with slick. “Although I don’t feel too guilty, perhaps I should continue to do this to you until you’re begging me to stop.”  
Despite himself his cock gave a mildly interested twitch. “I don’t think I could come again. I should think I would get sore as well.” 

Wrathion smirked, “Well there’s only one way to find out isn’t there?” 

He choked on a gasp as Wrathion rammed into him once more with agonising precision. For just a few moments he let himself be pulled away by it, let himself indulge in the muted yet undeniably present twinge that began to spread through his lower body, before he slid his arms around Wrathion’s back and slammed him down onto the bedsheets. 

The look of shock and bewilderment on Wrathion’s face was perhaps even better than the sex. 

“Now now,” Anduin crooned, grabbing between his legs to lure Wrathion’s cock back between his ass. “You said I need to keep my wits about me lest I be devoured by a dragon.”

“I-I did however-!” Wrathion’s hands moved to sit at his hips, and Anduin quickly batted them away. 

“Quiet.” Anduin barked, grabbing at the red sash from Wrathion’s discarded clothing and threading it around the dragon’s wrists. Wrathion spluttered, yet he paid him little mind as he hooked the fabric around the edges of his bed posts and sat backwards to observe his handiwork. 

“I must say, you are full of surprises today.” Wrathion said shirtily. 

Anduin laughed with a sneer, “Do I detect a hint of wounded pride? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your smart mouth is occupied with other noises for the rest of the night.” 

He bounced on Wrathion’s dick and the frantic groan that left his lips fed into the excitement that buzzed in the back of his head. 

“Can-can I touch you at the very least?” He hissed, the corners of his lips twitching as Anduin began to grind himself on top of his cock. 

“I think you’ve done your fair share of that already, don’t you?” Anduin smiled, hands finding purchase on Wrathion’s crooked knees. Despite his previous protests, his cock was already beginning to swell. Wrathion certainly made for a delectable sight, hair messy and face dirty with stained blood. He found himself hungering each time his facade broke, he was very close to the edge, and Anduin was very keen to wring him dry. 

“Are you going to come?” He dragged Wrathion up to the tip and sunk back down on his sex. “Because it looks like you are, for all your proclamations you look like you’re about to burst.”

“I-I am not- Ah-!” Wrathion cried out rather unconvincingly as Anduin began to bounce on top of him.   
“But I want you to, I want you to fill me up. I want to have you leaking down my thighs.” He pressed, mustering enough physical energy to slam down upon him with more vigor. “I want you to come inside of me, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Wrathion gaped, barely holding together. “Yes, yes please, I’m-”

“Then do it.” He snapped, sounds of smacking flesh reaching his ears, “Come.” 

He should have berated Wrathion when his hands pulled free and grabbed at his hips. But as Wrathion’s grip slammed him down on his cock and met in time with his ministrations the heedy heavy snap of pleasure had him instead crying out as Wrathion bucked messily into him and came with a low-pitched moan. 

His cock had little to spare, but it gave a valiant effort as a few spurts leaked over Wrathion’s already filthy stomach. 

The moment the last vestiges of energy left him he sunk down clumsily onto Wrathion’s body. 

“Perhaps,” Anduin panted, words swimming in his mouth, “Perhaps I should do that more often.” 

Wrathion’s warm hands ruffled through his hair, “I… would not be opposed.” He said eventually.

Anduin laughed and nosed against the soft down on the dragon’s chest. There was a particular nostalgia about the moment that suddenly made him feel very weak, he could picture their first time very clearly in his mind. Wrathion’s comforting arms, the smell and taste of his skin beneath his lips, he thought of how in love he felt at that moment and realised it was the exact same feeling even now.

“I really really do love you, you know?” Anduin spoke quietly. “I love you so much my heart could burst.”

Wrathion smiled gently, “Yes, I feel the same. I struggle to express how much I care for you. I love you perhaps more than any dragon has ever loved before.”

“A bold claim.” Anduin chuckled, “You might have to take it to the dragon council to debate.”

“Of course! I will inform everyone from here to Draenor that my love for you is incontestable.” 

They laid in silence for a while, and Anduin contented himself with the sound of Wrathion’s heartbeat. No matter how happy he felt at the time, worries began to sink in once again when the delirious excitement began to fade. He pondered what would happen next, what would happen to his kingdom, his people. He wondered what would happen to Wrathion, whether he would put himself in harm’s way once again. He wondered what new threat may lie on the horizon.

“You will be mine, won’t you? No matter where you go, I’ll be yours, and you will be mine.”

Wrathion blinked down at him, as if the question was incredibly silly. “Yes, always and forever.” 

That was enough for Anduin. He nuzzled into Wrathion’s warmth and let his eyes slide shut. 

Always and forever, no matter what. 

He slept and dreamt of Wrathion’s wide dusky wings carrying him across a sable-blue sky.


End file.
